


Office Hours

by dustofwarfare



Series: Insomnia U [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Humor, M/M, Modern Setting, PhD Student/Advisor, Professor!Ardyn, bad idea sex in your advisor's office, grad!student!Ravus, handjobs, insomnia u au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 21:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15957536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: "I can’t believe we have to TA this stupid intro class again! Dr. Izunia swore we wouldn’t have to after last year and yet, here we are. I wonder what Ardyn did to piss off the dean this time?” She leans forward. “It wasn’tyou, was it?”Ravus glares at her. “Would you please refrain from making those sorts of allegations in myoffice?”“Your office? Seriously? This is a basement, Nox Fleuret. Like. I’m pretty sure they can’t renovate it because there’s geostigma in the walls and we’ll end up poisoned.”___Ravus Nox Fleuret, philosophy graduate student/PhD candidate, starts off the new semester by grading terrible papers, snarking with his fellow TA and being completely inappropriate with his advisor, department chair Dr. Ardyn Izunia. Welcome to a new year at Insomnia U!





	Office Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of a shared universe with the lovely @marmolita! It's a FFXV college AU that involves some crossover with other FF games (mainly VII and VIII at the moment), and is a loosely connected series of one-shots about various pairings/characters. We have SO MUCH FUN STUFF PLANNED, get ready! 
> 
> This one features philosophy department chair (and Kefkaian philosopher, natch) Dr. Ardyn Izunia and PhD candidate/TA Ravus Nox Fleuret (area of research: stoicism), who are engaged in a Very Bad Idea Affair. Aranea -- Ardyn's only other graduate student, moral relativist and Ravus's fellow TA -- shows up to laugh at Ravus actually grading the student intro assignments. Ardyn also introduces his new work study student to Ravus...Loqi Tummelt, who last semester tried to (unsuccessfully) seduce Ravus into a better grade. 
> 
> Lots more pairings/fics on the way!

_I think philosophy is important because it teaches us how to think.  I want to learn about thinking, because I think that thinking is important and I think this class can help me think better._

Ravus taps his pen on the edge of his desk, scowling down at the paper he’s reading -- an actual paper, because Professor Izunia insists that in-class assignments be completed by hand instead of submitted electronically. Dr. Izunia _says_ it’s because writing something “forces the brain to carefully consider each word,” but Ravus knows the real reason is that he’s infected so many department-issued laptops with viruses that they won’t let him have one anymore.

And if Professor Izunia can’t use a laptop, then neither can his graduate assistants. Because he’s a dick like that.

Which means Ravus has to first decipher the handwriting of these techno-obsessed freshman who haven’t written anything longer than a grocery list their whole lives, in _addition_ to suffering their idiotic answers.

Technically this is not a graded assignment, but the urge to mark something is nearly overwhelming. Ravus is not looking forward to his twice-weekly discussion sections for this class, which is a 101 intro-level course that he should in no way be subjected to teaching. Dr. Izunia must have pissed off the dean.

Again.

 _All my friends -- like_ _all_ _my friends -- tell me I could totally be on Lucis’s Next Top Model! And it’s like,_ _really_ _important to have a  ~_ ♥ ♥♥ _personal philosophy_ ★★~ _so here I am!_

Ravus stares up at the at the low-hanging, water-stained ceiling tiles and tries to remind himself that this is part of what being a TA _is_. So what if he’s having a moment where he desperately wishes he’d gone to four years of undergrad, majored in business, and taken over the family sylleblossom farm? It will pass. It always does.  

“Ugh, are you still reading those stupid assignments?”

Ravus glances up as Aranea Highwind, his fellow TA and Ardyn’s only other graduate student, throws herself into the chair across from him, stacking her boots on his desk and fixing him with a smirk. “Seriously, I gave up after two minutes. I can’t believe we have to TA this stupid intro class again! Dr. Izunia swore we wouldn’t have to after last year and yet, here we are. I wonder what Ardyn did to piss off the dean this time?” She leans forward. “It wasn’t _you_ , was it?”

Ravus glares at her. “Would you please refrain from making those sorts of allegations in my _office_?”

“Your office? Seriously? This is a _basement_ , Nox Fleuret. Like. I’m pretty sure they can’t renovate it because there’s geostigma in the walls and we’ll end up poisoned.”

“Geostigma wasn’t real,” Ravus huffs. “It was thought to be a metaphor for the imbalance in harmony between man and the environment after the collapse of the Shinra Electric Power Company forced a return to more traditional fossil-fuel based--”

“Stop,” Aranea says, putting her hands over her ears. “It’s way too early in the day for this.”

“It’s three-thirty,” Ravus says. “And the reason they don’t renovate the _basement_ is so that we have nicer, fancier offices to aspire to.”

Aranea stares at him. “I don’t know if that was a joke or not. I’m going with no, since I’m pretty sure you’ve never _heard_ a joke before, much less made one. Which means...wow. Wow, Ravus.”

He shrugs. “Am I wrong?” That was a fun question to ask a moral relativist. They never could just say _yes._

Which she doesn’t. “I thought it was because the university gave all its funding to the sciences.”

“Now you sound like Ardyn.”  Ravus doesn’t necessarily disagree --- the liberal arts don’t tend to get as much funding as other disciplines. He simply doesn’t think all the frills are necessary. The most important tool to understanding philosophy is in the mind, not fancy desks or air conditioning or a vending machine that works and doesn’t, say, steal all your gil and give you a caffeine-free Dr. Leiden Pepper when you’ve been up for four days straight grading and trying to finish a chapter of your dissertation.

“Well, you know I think he’s right about that. I bet you a latte at Loveless that’s why we’re stuck TAing this class this semester. Ardyn probably ran his mouth at some fundraiser, _again_ , about how no one appreciates a classical education anymore and how the university is producing - wait, how’s he always say it --” Aranea clears her throat and adopts Ardyn’s accent, which is some weird combination of Tenebraen and Lucian that makes no sense and, as is speculated by nearly the entire campus, probably not real. “ _Citizens who fall somewhere beneath the average chocobo in critical thinking skills, usefulness and personal grooming habits.”_

Ravus snorts. Ardyn is many things - brilliant, fond of his own voice, charismatic in that way that makes you think about cult leaders or politicians -- but he’s certainly not shy about expressing his opinion.  “I doubt they’d punish him for speaking in passionate defense of his discipline.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Mr. Stoic,” Aranea teases him. She winks. “Pleased, but surprised.”

“I didn’t say _I_ would do it,” Ravus says. “But I doubt that would be enough to condemn him to Intro to Philosophy hell. It’s not as if the entire administration doesn’t know how he is.”

Aranea shrugs. “Are you going to finish reading those?”

“That is,” Ravus huffs, “my _job_.” He’s at least going to pretend until she’s gone.

“Why? Look. Just mark in your grade book that they turned it in, and you’re done. Why do you care what these imbeciles have to say?”

Ravus doesn’t care about what the papers say, not really - but he’s not going to tell Aranea that. “It’s not as if reading them is a hardship.”

She raises her eyebrows and grabs another paper. “ _I’m taking this class because it’s required for my major._ ”

Ravus shrugs. “That’s an adequate, if uninspired, answer. At least it’s honest.” And not about being a supermodel. At this point, he’ll take what he can get.

She snorts and nimbly steals another from the stack before Ravus can stop her. “This one just has _‘An A’_ and nothing else.”

“As the Midgarian military philosopher Lazard Deusericus once said, _unattainable dreams are the best kind_ ,” Ravus murmurs.

Aranea does laugh at that. “Right? Well, if we’re still placing bets on who’s gonna drop after the first exam, my money’s on this guy.” Aranea re-stacks her boots. “You know, speaking of money…. _you_ could fancy up the offices and then maybe I’d actually come down here and do some work.”

He gives her the same look he does when it’s a student sitting across from him, trying to argue up their grade. He also gives her the same answer, too. “No.”

“Ugh, Ravus! What’s the point of being loaded if you don’t use it to make life easier?  And don’t give me that bs about this being your _stoic philosophy_ or whatever, I have _seen_ your apartment. That bed of yours alone costs as much as an undergraduate education.”

Ravus scowls at her. “As I’ve told you before, that townhouse has been in the family for years. I lived in the dorms for my entire undergraduate education _and_ in a tiny apartment in Altissia when I got my masters-- ”

“There aren’t any other kinds of apartments in Altissia, are there?”

“No, but there are _nicer_ small ones than the one I lived in” he snaps. It’s a sore point and she knows it. He can’t help the fact he comes from money. “The fewer distractions there are, the better the mind functions.”

“Have you _seen_ our advisor lately? He’s nothing _but_ a distraction.” Aranea snorts. “Classic Kefkain philosopher move, amirite?”

That gets a very small smile out of him. Aranea does know her stuff, which is the only reason he bothers to speak to her at all. Regardless of their different approaches, her mind is sharp like a tack. That, combined with copious amounts of alcohol at various house parties (not to mention stress), is usually why they end up in bed together a few times a semester.

And he might be a stoic, but he’s not _dead_ . She really is hot. It’s a lot better than his other, less-morally palatable choice for a bed partner. But he’s not thinking about that right now, or how two nights ago he once again broke his _stop sleeping with your advisor_ rule. Three times.

Ardyn definitely _is_ distracting.

“Hey, how’s your sister? She back from that summer thing in Galahd?” Aranea makes a face. “Ugh. I bet it’s hot there. Bleh.” Aranea thinks it’s hot the second the temperature inches above seventy, given her Niflheim blood.

Ravus inclines his head. “She got back two days ago before the semester started, but I haven’t seen much of her.” He shares his townhouse with his sister, who is in the final year of her social work program. “She tried speaking to me in Galahdian three times before she remembered where we were.”

“What, you mean, in her major you don’t learn Ancient Solheim and Ancient Lucian?” Aranea winks. “Imagine that. Languages people actually speak.” She swings her boots down and says, “Well, tell her I said hi. She’s not back together with Pretty Boy, is she?”

“Noctis?” Ravus can’t quite keep the sneer out of his voice. “No, thank the Astrals. I imagine that brief rekindling was just nostalgia. Thankfully it ended before the summer started.”

“Doesn’t everyone else like him?” Aranea asks. “I never did get why you hated him so much.”

“And you never will, because it’s none of your business.” Ravus does not want to talk about his sister’s ex, who unfortunately, she still calls her _bestie._ Ravus keeps hoping Noctis will take some sort of study-abroad semester in Niflheim and not come back. He waves a paper at her. “Go away so I can finish these.”

“So you can wait five minutes and pretend you finished them, you mean.” She blows him a kiss and heads out, past the empty desk that is across from his -- hers, technically, but in all their years together as grad students, he’s never once seen her put anything on it but her boots.

Ravus turns back to the papers in front of him, because he’s going to wait _ten_ minutes, thank you very much, and finds himself reading the assignment despite knowing it’s just going to be painful.

The handwriting is in black ink that is somehow darker than a normal pen. The answer to the assignment -- which was _what do you expect to get out of this class --_ is:

_I guess because it would be nice to know how people think, even if it’s pointless. Even if you understand how people think, someday you’re bound to lose everything. Everyone around you will be gone. Then what are you left with? Nothing. Nobody...it’s so miserable. And it’s inevitable._

_Also the other one I tried to sign up for was full._

There’s some more writing that’s been scratched out, and the paper ends with a succinct, _whatever,_ which has been underlined three times.

Ravus checks the student’s name. _Squall Leonhart._

He sighs. There’s always one baby nihilist in every class. He makes a tick-mark next to the student’s name, finishes up and is just about to leave when the door the basement opens and in walks his advisor, Dr. Ardyn Izunia. Ravus can probably count on one hand the number of times Ardyn has been down here, and most of them were after-hours and definitely -- well.  

Maybe it’s not a _bad_ thing that Aranea doesn’t use her desk.

“Ravus! Good to see you.” Ardyn smiles at him, all charm, dressed as absurdly as ever. “I hope you had an exemplary first class today, hmm?”

Ravus doesn’t answer, because he can’t. He’s staring at the young man who is standing next to Ardyn, because -- oh, no. _No._ Ravus is absolutely sure it’s the same person, and  _why?_

Loqi Tummelt was in Ravus’s class last year, and he was ostensibly an engineering student who was taking the intro to philosophy class as his required humanities credit. Ravus knew Loqi was an engineering student, because _he would never let anyone forget it._ Most of his in-class participation consisted of snidely informing all the other students that his discipline was _useful_ and _practical._

Ravus didn’t know what sort of work Loqi turned in to his professors and TAs for his actual major, but he was terrible writing papers. He used more exclamation marks in one paper than Ravus had imagined existed in the world, and his arguments were bombastic and unfounded, his citations things like _“something I heard in the dining hall_ ”.

None of this was exactly _new_ to Ravus, who as an ABD student had taught his fair share of intro courses (despite Ardyn’s yearly assurances that he wouldn’t have to), but what _was_ new was Loqi showing up at his office hours, batting his eyelashes in what he must have thought was a seductive fashion and trying to talk Ravus into changing his grade.

From a C- to an _A._

To which Ravus had replied, with uncharacteristic bluntness, “I’m not sure anyone is quite that talented at cocksucking.” Loqi had as deft a hand with subtlety as he did with punctuation.

Loqi had assured him that he was, in fact, that gifted - and then tried to slide down on the floor and prove it.  Ravus had threatened him with academic probation. That had been the end of that.

“I’m not sure if you remember Mr. Tummelt,” says Ardyn, as if Ravus could forget, “but he’s recently taken a position as my work-study student.”

Oh, dear _Gods._

Since Ravus has been in the department, Ardyn has had no less than four administrative assistants and more work study students than Ravus could shake a philosopher’s stone at. He runs them off, either with his odd behavior, demanding personality or for some other reason Ravus doesn’t want to think too hard about.

Last year’s work study student -- the first one -- left in tears after a week when Ardyn instructed her on the proper way to copy his syllabi for his class. Ravus didn’t know how a simple Xerox machine could reduce someone to sobbing, but lo and behold, it happened.

The second one showed up high a lot, and for some reason, that seemed to suit Ardyn better. But he left under mysterious circumstances, and Ardyn’s office smelled like something illegal for the better part of a week.

After that, most of Ardyn’s administrative duties were attended to by Ravus or Aranea, which was likely his plan all along.

“Oh,” Ravus says, absolutely at a loss for what to say. “All right.”

Loqi smiles at him. His eyelashes don’t bat -- _thank the Astrals_ \-- but they do a half-lid thing that looks almost as ridiculous. “Hello, Ravus.”

He _really_ can’t wait until he’s a doctor and insist that people call him Dr. Nox Fleuret. Hearing Loqi use his first name makes him want to hit his head repeatedly on his cheap metal desk. “Hello, Loqi.”

“I am sure that you will make use of Loqi’s talents for the semester,” Ardyn says, smirking over at him. Ardyn knows all about that failed seduction attempt, of course. Ardyn also thinks it’s hilarious.  “I’ve made it clear that he is to be available for _whatever_ you need.”

“Mmm.” Ravus has no idea what to say to that. He intends to ignore Loqi as a work study employee of the department just as thoroughly as he ignored him as a student, hopefully with less awkward attempts at blowjobs.

“That should be enough for today, Loqi,” Ardyn says, waving a hand. “Ravus, I have a few things about your class I’d like to discuss. If you’d be so good as to come up to my office?”

Ravus doesn’t believe him for a second but agrees, mostly because the lesser of two evils is following the person he shouldn’t be sleeping with, not hanging around in the basement with the one he doesn’t want to.

***

“You really are unbelievable,” Ravus says, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. “It’s the first week of classes, Ardyn, and we’re in your _office_.”

“Tell me more about your moral objections,” Ardyn murmurs, his hand sliding down to rub somewhere decidedly wicked. “You know what it does to me, to dismantle them all.”

“We – shouldn’t,” Ravus says, which is a very bad objection, one even he doesn’t believe at this point. Not with the way he’s pushing his hips forward, into Ardyn’s hand.

“The door’s shut,” Ardyn murmurs, sucking kisses onto the spot between Ravus’s neck and shoulder. “No one dares come in here without knocking first.”

That’s not at all the same thing as the door is locked, which would be at least marginally less worrying. And – though he hates to admit it – less exciting. Ravus finds himself grabbing at Ardyn’s shoulders, which are broad and well-defined under his jacket, allowing himself to be pressed up against Ardyn’s desk.

It’s a much nicer desk. It’s a much nicer _office._ There’s a window and everything.

“I know for a fact your work study student has no manners,” Ravus says, sucking in a sharp breath as Ardyn starts working at his pants. “Though since he works for you instead of me, perhaps _you’ll_ be the one whose cock he tries to suck.”

“An _engineering_ student? Ravus. Come, now. I have my standards.” Ardyn’s fingers push down past his waistband and wrap slowly around his cock. “You know I can’t stand the thought of fucking anyone who doesn’t at _least_ speak passable Old Lucian.”

Ravus tilts his head back and fights back a sound that is part laugh, part groan. “You’re impossible and you’re going to end up fired if anyone catches us.”

“Don’t be silly, Ravus. I have tenure.” Ardyn shifts and kisses him, his hand moving faster. “You weren’t nearly this reticent a few nights ago.”

Ravus, who is fucking Ardyn’s hand and practically panting, doesn’t think this counts as _reticent._ “That’s -- we were -- in my house, and alone.” He shudders, the pleasure building and building, wondering if Ardyn’s going to force him to make a mess of his clothes. He’s done it before. Ravus hates how the thought gets his hips moving faster, his fingers tightening in Ardyn’s coat as he presses closer.

Ardyn presses his mouth against Ravus’s ear, which he can do because he’s just slightly taller. “Would you like me to take you in my mouth, or do you want to come all over my desk and the class roster?”

“You -- why are you like this,” Ravus asks, as if he’s trying to burrow into Ardyn to escape the reality of what is actually happening. “I don’t want to -- ah, _gods --_ make a mess….”

“Oh, I think you do, though,” Ardyn murmurs, biting gently at his ear. “I think you quite like it when I make you come and you don’t have to worry what you might ruin.”

Ravus pulls back to glare at him, but Ardyn twists his hand just right over the top of his aching cock and it’s less of a glare than a look of pure desperation. “Don’t make me --” Even _he_ doesn’t believe himself, his voice tight with excitement, hips shoving himself harder and harder into Ardyn’s hand.

“You're such a terrible liar,” Ardyn says, his smile slow and heated, as he watches Ravus struggle with both his urges and his desire to fight them. “You should really just learn to admit how much you like being debauched.” His hand slows, grip loosening, and that perfect, tight pressure is suddenly gone.

“ _Ardyn_ ,” Ravus hisses.

“Shh, now, don’t worry. I shan’t leave you unsatisfied. And as much as we both know how much you‘d like to come all over my desk, we shall save that for when I’ve replenished my supplies and can fuck you properly over it. How’s that?” Ardyn’s free hand grabs Ravus’s hair, pulling with the tension he’s no longer using on Ravus’s aching cock. “Well? I did ask you a question. Remember I’m your _professor_ and answer me.”

Even Ravus can’t try and pretend that dynamic doesn’t do it for him. His cock is wet with pre-come, and he’s nearly there, even if Ardyn’s touch is too frustratingly light to get him off. “That-- yes, Dr. Izunia.” Sometimes he holds out longer, but really, even though he can’t say he doesn’t _like_ that they’re doing this in Ardyn’s unlocked office with other people around, they’re still _doing this in Ardyn’s unlocked office, with other people around._

Ardyn might have tenure and be the university president’s half-brother, but Ravus is just a PhD student making incredibly poor choices.

“Tch,” Ardyn says, and he’s probably disappointed that Ravus didn’t protest playing the game a little more. “Very well. I suppose that shall have to do. It _is_ the beginning of the semester, after all. Enough time to improve your performance.” Ardyn’s voice is husky, growing tense with arousal, and he kisses Ravus hotly before pulling away and going to his knees. His mouth slides over Ravus’s cock, and while he is damnably good at drawing this out until Ravus is a mess, he doesn’t do that now.

He takes him deep all at once, sucking hard and tugging Ravus’s pants down enough to tease his hole with his long, clever fingers. Ravus half-stumbles back, nearly falling on Ardyn’s desk before managing to lean on it and get his hand in Ardyn’s hair. Ardyn hums around his cock and rubs over his balls, and Ravus goes tense and hurriedly bites his own wrist to stifle his shout when he comes.

When the last of it, Ravus braces himself with his hands flat on Ardyn’s desk and tries to catch his breath. Ardyn’s aroused, he can tell, but he gives a hesitant glance toward the door. Now that he’s come, he’s not sure he’s going to be able to put aside his misgivings about prolonging their encounter. He quickly tucks himself back into his pants and does them up, running his fingers through his hair and ignoring the thobbing mark on his wrist where he bit himself. His teeth make a harsh red circle against his fair skin. He’s going to have wear long-sleeves the next few days, but it’s better than, say, Loqi hearing him crying out in release in Ardyn’s office.

Even if the thought is so shamefully arousing that his stomach tightens. _What is wrong with me?_

“It’s a shame you’re too tall to fit under my desk. I could do my work with my cock in your pretty mouth, and no one would be the wiser.” Ardyn stands up, takes Ravus’s arm and turns it over to see his wrist. He clucks his tongue. “Perhaps I shall have to get you a bit.”

Ravus closes his eyes and hopes Ardyn mistakes the flush on his face for anger. “No.”

“Oh, darling. You do so enjoy clinging to these little self-fabrications about yourself.” Ardyn pats him on the cheek and smiles. His eyes are unusual, a bright yellow-gold that makes Ravus think a cat that’s always on the hunt, even if all it wants is to torment something by batting it about a bit until it loses interest.

Ravus does not like to think of himself as the thing being batted, and yet. “If you want anything else completely inappropriate and untoward, you’re going to have to wait until later. Or else ask Loqi.”

Ardyn rolls his eyes and moves away. “Not only is he an engineering student who can’t speak Old Lucian, as I recall he barely earned a C in my class. He’s welcome to put his hands on the textbook from last year he clearly didn’t read, but not my cock.”

Ravus snorts despite himself. “I’m doing all my own copies. He may assist me if there’s a paper jam, but that’s it.”

Ardyn pats him on the cheek. “If you’re not going to entertain me with lewd and lascivious pleasures of the flesh, do get out of my office. I have three journal articles just _begging_ for me to write a scathing rebuttal and publish them.”

Ravus doesn’t doubt that. He once accompanied Ardyn to a conference in Gralea where they kept calling him “ _that_ Izunia” and three people refused to sit at their table during dinner. Ardyn had taken advantage of it to put his hand between Ravus’s legs and tease him under the table for the duration.

“Have fun eviscerating the research of your peers,” Ravus says, and lets himself out.

He passes Loqi on the stairs, though he doesn’t bother to stop or acknowledge his existence. Nor does he allow himself to acknowledge that he’s half-hard again, thinking how close they were to being caught. How Loqi -- who, if guessing from the sudden, viciously condescending tone of Ardyn’s raised voice, did in fact _not_ knock first -- might have just walked in on Ravus bent over Ardyn’s desk, clutching at the edges while Ardyn --

 _Stop this,_ Ravus tells himself, ashamed as always by the things Ardyn Izunia makes him want. _Go work on your chapter about Sabin the monk. That should be sufficient enough to distract you from the things you shouldn’t be thinking about._

It’s going to be an interesting year.

**Author's Note:**

> Loveless, the coffee shop, is indeed owned and managed by bitter former lit prof Genesis Rhapsodos, denied tenure when he failed an entire class over their inability to properly appreciate his favorite play. You'll see him in a bit ;) 
> 
> Also there's a bubble tea shop owned and managed by Aerith Gainsborough, and it's called Matearia. I'M REAL PROUD OF THAT, IJS.


End file.
